


but i've got you to keep me warm

by Authoress



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College AU, Gen, I HAVE MANY PLATONIC OIKEN FEELINGS OKAY, and oikawa proves what a great mom he'll be, i'll write a better/more detailed one later, in which kenma is a literal cat, self-indulgent cuddle fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authoress/pseuds/Authoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>(( and i'll keep you sheltered from the storm that's raging on now ))</em>
</p><p>Oikawa doesn't really consider a break-in to be a possibility for his and Kuroo's second-story apartment until it happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but i've got you to keep me warm

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhh yes ed sheeran's 'lego house' is my song for oikawa/kenma
> 
> no one asked for this but i wrote it anyway. college au haunting me.

 

Oikawa sucks at this.

 

He hisses sharply and bites his lip to hold back a yelp of pain when his hand brushes the edge of the pan. Hopping a little, he alternates shaking his hand and sticking the burned area in his mouth, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. Oikawa glares at the offending object, omelette already starting to brown at the edges, completely overcooked. Frustrated, Oikawa gives his hand one final healing lick and dumps the egg into the trash, practically smashing the pan back down on the stove and leaning against the kitchenette counter, crossing his arms petulantly. Yeah, he _sucked_ at this.

 

Why should he have to cook anyway? It's not like he had any idea how to make food—he had always depended on Iwaizumi or Kuroo to cook for him. He'd clean, they'd cook; that was the deal. Of course, now Iwa-chan was at that fancy university in Tokyo, leaving him all alone. At least Kuroo had decided to attend Miyagi University; Oikawa wasn't sure if he'd be alive right now if Tetsu hadn't taken him in.

 

But then Tetsu had to go and stay late at the library because of some important research paper, with Sawamura and Sugawara of all people. He hadn't shown up last night, and still wasn't here in the morning, so he must have crashed with them, leaving Oikawa to deal with...

 

Well.

 

Oikawa peeks around the corner of the kitchenette into their shared bedroom. It's dark in the room—Oikawa hadn't bothered to turn on the light—but he can still make out the neatness of Tetsu's made bed, and in the middle of _his_ bed...well, well, well.

 

He hadn't ever really considered the possibility of a break-in to their tiny apartment, only a few kilometers from campus. The pair of roommates were on the second floor, anyway; no one in their right mind would try to rob them. And yet, last night he had heard a scratching and tapping outside on their balcony, followed by the telltale sound of the sliding door opening slowly.

 

Panicked, Oikawa had grabbed the closest weapon to his bedside. True, a volleyball wasn't much of a weapon, but Oikawa also had a killer serve that he had witnessed take out more than one team member due to a crappy receive. Feeling idiotic and terrified, he had crept out of their bedroom, one hand holding the volleyball, and the other poised to peg it into the intruder's face.

 

Cat eyes, bright and unafraid, met his in the low light of the overcast moonlit sky. Shocked, Oikawa jumped a foot in the air and dropped the volleyball in the process. The intruder blinked, patient and languid. "Aoba Johsai's captain..." He mused in a low, monotone voice.

 

"Nekoma's setter!" Oikawa responded, eyeing the boy warily. "What the hell are you doing in my apartment in the middle of the night? Did you—did you seriously scale the building? How?"

 

"Kuroo's apartment," Kenma corrected absently. "He invited me. Door was unlocked." It didn't escape Oikawa's notice how he ignored the last two questions.

 

"Why the fuck would Tetsu—you know what, no. I don't care why Tetsu told you to come over here, _at three in the fucking morning_ , of all times, and I don't want to know. Close the damn door," Oikawa had grumbled, irritable. He had a chill in his bones now from the biting autumn wind, thanks to the pudding-head. Great.

 

Kenma had obeyed, at least. He closed the door and locked it, turning to look Oikawa over with a kind of uncertain curiosity. It occurred to Oikawa that he had only come across Kenma in passing, never exchanging more than a brief hello when he tagged along with Tetsu. There was a moment of awkward silence.

 

"I guess you'll have to do," Kenma had murmured then, eyes sharp. Oikawa suddenly felt as if he were a prey item, caught in the view of a predator. Nekoma's ex-setter may have been smaller, but he had a powerful presence when he wanted to.

 

He took a step forward.

 

"W-wait, what are you doing?" Oikawa had asked, nervousness slipping into his voice. Kenma hadn't answered, just kept walking towards Oikawa with a kind of fierce determination. And Oikawa allowed himself to be pushed back into his room, fleeing at the last moment to dive into his bed, hissing "don't come!"

 

Undeterred, Kenma had pursued Oikawa. Suddenly very certain of his imminent demise, Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut, yanking the covers up to hide his nose.

 

But Kenma had pulled the covers away, climbing easily into Oikawa's bed, tugging the blankets up to his chin and curling into Oikawa. Like any sane human being, Oikawa had attempted to shove the intruder away, body stiff in discomfort. However, Kenma was nothing if not a leech when he found a source of warmth. His skin was freezing to the touch and he shivered a little, pressing the entire length of his body against Oikawa, rubbing his cheek against his collarbone and closing his eyes.

 

"Don't _fall asleep_ on me!" Oikawa had wailed, holding his arms out in order to keep from touching the boy and discourage his clinging.

 

"Kuroo isn't here," Kenma had murmured, as if it were a valid excuse for snuggling up to someone who was almost a complete stranger. "My dorm is too cold."

 

Oikawa didn't really understand how those two statements were related. Still, this _was_ someone precious to Tetsu... "Honestly, if Tetsu wants to have someone stay over at our apartment, he should really make sure that he's not studying all night somewhere completely different," Oikawa conceded, finally, arms dropping.

 

"He could have at least told me. It's not like I would mind taking care of a friend of his for a little while, you know," Oikawa had added, muttering the last part too low for Kenma to hear. "Oi, do you always sleep with Tetsu? You're an adult already, aren't you? Grow up a little."

 

"Kuroo's warm," Kenma explained, voice muffled. It didn't really make sense to Oikawa—the entire situation still seemed like a dream to him—but that night, he had allowed one arm to awkwardly embrace Kenma's side and fall asleep like that.

 

When he woke, it had not been because of his alarm, but rather a nearly painful ball of warmth searing into his side, making him sweat under the covers. He nearly leapt out of bed then and there, having forgotten about the intruder. Once he had calmed down, Oikawa extricated himself from the boiling source of heat with a scoff. So much for Kenma being cold.

 

Oikawa isn't sure why he decided to make the guy breakfast (or attempt to, at least). He didn't owe Kenma—it was the other way around, actually. Yet here he was, standing in the kitchenette at a loss, staring at the bundle of blankets that were representative of Kenma. _Urgh._ Tetsu was going to get hell for this.

 

He sighs and turns back to the stove, cracking two eggs into the pan for the third time, determined to get it right. It had to be his hospitable and friendly side showing. That was the only explanation.

 

He stirs in a little milk and a tap of salt, trying to remember how Iwa-chan had cooked for him. Oikawa's tongue pokes out as he works, stirring the egg mixture as it thickens, keeping it from charring like the other two attempts. He almost doesn't hear the scuff of feet across the time and the drag of a blanket across the floor.

 

He's greeted by a soft headbump against his arm. Raising his arm with amusement, Oikawa allows Kenma to peek around him to glance at the stove. Kenma's still wrapped in a thick blanket, eyes bleary from sleep. "What're you making?" He murmurs, voice heavy with exhaustion.

 

"An omelette, hopefully," Oikawa replies. "Go sit down somewhere, you look like death. Tetsu'll have my head if I let anything happen to you." He gestures with the spatula towards the couch and their TV. Kenma follows the movement with his eyes, regarding the living room with mild interest.

 

But if Oikawa thought he had gotten rid of his guest, he had another thing coming. Deciding the living room was not of enough interest to explore, Kenma proceeded to knock his head against Oikawa's back, resting there while Oikawa fiddled with dials on the stove and poked at the egg. Oikawa attempted to instigate conversation but only got muffled 'hmm's' and 'mmph's' in response.

 

Feeling like he was actually getting somewhere, Oikawa made to move the egg around one final time, but instead yelped in surprise and chopped the omelette in two with the spatula. Kenma had picked the perfect moment to lift up Oikawa's shirt and stick his head underneath, soft hair tickling Oikawa's back.

 

"Idiot! What are you doing? Get out of there!" He snarls, trying to regain a little dignity. "Look what you've done now, this isn't even an omelette anymore..." Oikawa sighs in defeat.

 

"Scrambled eggs," Kenma adds unhelpfully from his position.

 

Oikawa caves with little protest. Pulling the pan from the stove and dumping the ruined omelette onto it, chopping up the egg into something resembling scrambled eggs.

 

"Come on," he sighs, leading Kenma to the couch, the boy still tucked under his shirt. He's only persuaded to get on the couch by the promise of more blankets and food. Curled up in a bundle, only his face and tiny hands poking out, Oikawa supposes Kenma is somewhat endearing.

 

He stabs part of the egg with the fork, lifting it up to feed to his guest. Kenma blinks in surprise but Oikawa's hunch isn't wrong—Kenma enjoys being pampered, and allows Oikawa to feed him.

 

That's how Kuroo finds them: Oikawa and Kenma, cross-legged with knees touching, one buried under covers and the other in his nightclothes and a tired but fond smile at the edge of his lips. Kenma doesn't protest being treated like a child, practically radiating contentment, not that Oikawa would be able to tell. Kuroo has to grin.

 

"Ohohoho~" he chuckles, "seems you've taken to Kenma quite quickly, Oikawa. And you, Kenma—didn’t think you'd let anyone other than me baby you. I'm a little hurt."

 

"Tetsu!" Oikawa shrieks, eyes darting and hand jerking away from Kenma in an attempt to seem uninterested. "Where the hell have you been? You left Ken-chan all alone!"

 

 _Not **all** alone, apparently,_ Kuroo thinks. Aloud, he says: "Ken-chan?"

 

Oikawa blushes _hard_ , sputtering. Kenma's not perturbed, eyeing the remains of his breakfast on the plate, hardly even acknowledging Kuroo's entrance. "Tooru makes better eggs than you, Kuroo," he says.

 

It's a good morning scene, Kuroo thinks, pretending to be wounded by Kenma's statement. Oikawa yells about how Kenma should respect his elders and add an honorific, to Kenma's complete and utter apathy. Kenma eventually coerces Kuroo into finishing feeding him, leaving Oikawa to grumble to himself over the dishes, but Kuroo doesn't miss the way he side-eyes Kuroo taking care of Kenma with slight irritation.

 

And safely stored on Kuroo's phone is the image of Oikawa dead to the world, drool down the side of his cheek, one arm curled protectively around Kenma, clinging to his side tightly. Perhaps it was worth Daichi's fury to leave them alone together last night, after all.


End file.
